


Blood, Bats, and Boys

by SlasherFiend



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Not What It Looks Like, The Pack Finds Out, Vampire Stiles Stilinski, set right before the end of 3a
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-08
Updated: 2016-12-08
Packaged: 2018-09-07 06:30:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8787253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlasherFiend/pseuds/SlasherFiend
Summary: During a skirmish Peter detects a different odor coming from Stiles and follows the human. He didn't expect to find the boy in a cave lit by candles, what did he think he was, a vampire?





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Twisted_Mind](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Twisted_Mind/gifts).



> I promised this back before I was into Teen Wolf (like over a month ago or more?) to Twisted_Mind for her birthday. Here it is, enjoy dear!
> 
> Unbeated, so there are bound to be mistakes.

Peter was following Stiles through the Preserve, the boy’s scent had always had an odd tinge to it, but Peter assumed that was because it was just Stiles. Except today it had been really strong, distracting Peter during a tussle with a ghoul that had come to Beacon Hills, despite the presence of the Alpha pack. Peter would never admit it but he was glad Derek was there and had thrown the ghoul off before it could kill him. After the pack had dispersed, Peter went to the Stilinski home and waited for Stiles to fall asleep, sure it would be a while as the Sheriff was missing. Peter had been planning on sneaking into Stiles’ room, but the teen had opened his window and jumped to the ground before heading off to the Preserve.

Stiles had stopped in front of a cliff side.

Peter hid behind a tree and watched the teen climb down. Peter waited till Stiles was out of earshot before going to the edge and looking over, Stiles was gone.

Peter was sure jumping down would led to injuries that wouldn’t have time to heal, so he climbed down halfway before jumping to the cavern floor. His legs protested a little, but he flicked his eyes to blue and gazed around, there was a cave tucked back against the wall before the cavern turned, leading to sharper cliffs and rising hills. Peter headed for it, not sure Stiles was there, but then again maybe he was.

Peter entered the cave and was hit the smell of mold and blood, lots of it. Peter walked through the winding slim entrance silently, claws out, not sure on what to expect. The cave opened up around a turn and Peter blinked. This couldn’t be right. The cave was decorated with a rug and a grandfather clock stood ticking against the back wall. An antique couch was against one wall, and a painting hung on the other. Candles in glass jars covered the floor; they flickered back and forth brightly.

Peter went over and gazed at the painting, tilting his head. It looked like Stiles but in period clothing of the 1800’s, complete with muttonchops. What was going on here?

Someone walked in from an adjoining cave that the grandfather clock guarded.

“Do you like it?” Stiles asked.

Peter turned, claws retracting at the sight of the uninjured boy. “You’re not human,” he said slowly.

Stiles smiled. “Took you long enough. I had to go without covering my true scent for so long I thought the others were going to catch on.”

Peter approached and his nose detected the smell of blood wafting from the cave behind Stiles. Peter realized Stiles’ scent was of death and the dust on the items in the cave. “You’ve killed people,” Peter stated.

“Well, I fed from them,” Stiles said with a shrug. “Scott wouldn’t approve, but he doesn’t have to worry about finding a good food supply in a place like Beacon Hills without someone noticing eventually.”

Peter admired how Stiles talked about himself but also didn’t reveal what he was; the Beta smirked and got closer. Peter flashed his eyes again and stared into Stiles’ on a hunch.

Stiles’ doe eyes didn’t reflect the flash back, the pupils were milky. Stiles blinked. “I really thought you would have figured it out before this,” he said.

“There haven’t been vampires in Beacon Hills for a long time,” Peter told Stiles.

“Well not a nest,” Stiles elaborated. “It’s pretty much been me, no one else wants to deal with your werewolf problems or get caught in the cross fire from pack pissing matches.”

“You declined my bite because you didn’t need it,” Peter said, curious as to how Stiles had survived all this time on his own.

Stiles smirked. “I was flattered by the offer though.”

“I take it if I couldn’t detect your natural scent then that Scott can’t detect it now,” Peter stated.

“As soon as I mask it again, the only one that will know is you,” Stiles said, then went to sit on the couch.

Peter turned to the vampire; he realized Stiles had made himself known on purpose.

Stiles smirked, as if he was reading Peter's thoughts. Did vampires have telepathy? Peter couldn't remember...

“When you’ve been around for a few hundred years you get really good at picking your battles, knowing who to align with, how to stay hidden,” Stiles said.

“Well maybe now would be the time to show your friends what you really are,” Peter said, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Why? Because of the rouge Druid? They didn’t need my help to take on the Alpha pack,” Stiles said, arms on the back of the couch.

“What about your father?” Peter asked, not sure why he was playing Devil’s Advocate here, probably because he wasn’t used to Stiles not caring.

“John’s a good man,” Stiles said. “But I’ve had people around me die before.”

“I feel like you’re going to have to explain about yourself,” Peter said, Stiles was being evasive again.

“Sit and I’ll tell you everything,” Stiles told him. “Because you don’t need to be afraid of me.”

Peter sat on the couch, the cushions dipped low and the whole thing creaked.

Stiles patted the wood. “This divan belonged to my family; it’s as old as I am and as much as I’d like to bring it out of this cave, I’m afraid what the elements would do to it.”

“Is that why you still drive a Jeep from the 90’s?” Peter asked. “You like old things?”

Stiles laughed, his skin looked even paler in the half light from the candles. “Maybe I’m sentimental in my age, though there are vamps I’ve been in contact with across the country that are older than I am, there’s one who’s been around for a millennia. She’s Native American, the stories she has locked away…”

“This doesn’t sound like it has anything to do with you though,” Peter said.

Stiles glanced at Peter. “I guess I should start from the beginning, when I was turned.”

“My family came from Europe in the mid 1800’s, the Gold Rush and all that desire. But it didn’t work out and we came here. Beacon Hills was like every small town back then, with the added benefit of more trees, more supernatural creatures, the Nemeton in full force. So maybe not exactly like every town...I don’t know how many creatures were here, but a lot more were packed in then. Not so scattered like now,” Stiles explained.

He nodded at the painting. “That was the last time I was human. My parents had it done before I was to leave for an apprenticeship across the country.”

“But you never made it,” Peter said.

Stiles shook his head. “There was no railroad; you had to go to one of the main cities for that. I left late, I had to say goodbye to my sweetheart. She looked a lot like Lydia. While riding out, it got dark and I didn’t stop. I wasn’t afraid of the stories of creatures in the woods at night; I thought that had been left behind in Europe with my parents’ families. But I should have listened. My horse was spooked and I tried to keep it on the path, but it bucked at some sound and I was thrown. I hit my head and when I awoke I didn’t know where I was, it was underground that’s all I could tell. I walked forward into an open space and saw a coffin, it was open and empty. I heard an unearthly screech and a shadow moved in front of my face. There was a sharp pain in my neck. I felt my blood being drained, pulled from my body; I swore I was going to die.” Stiles’ eyes sparked in the light.

“But you didn’t, you were turned,” Peter said.

Stiles nodded. “The next thing I knew, I was in a coffin, being moved by a wagon. It was set down and opened to reveal a lady. She wore all black and was pale with shoulder length dark hair in curls. She had fangs. She told me she was the one that had turned me and she had been interrupted. I had been declared dead and my body had been given to my parents and they had me buried. She had retrieved my coffin before anyone noticed it was gone.”

Peter hummed.

Stiles chuckled. “You know what it’s like to be considered dead only to come back.”

“That was a spell, you’re actually the undead,” Peter told him.

Stiles shrugged.

“Long story short, she taught me all I needed to know, to keep to somewhere cold like a cellar or a cave during the day time, until I had become strong enough to withstand the sun better. She let me feed slowly, I was too ravenous being newly turned and would have torn anyone apart to get to their blood. I adjusted and just stayed here, watching time roll by.” Stiles turned to Peter.

“Did you know you’re not the first werewolf family to have lived here and been killed by hunters?”

“No, but we were the successful ones,” Peter said.

Stiles snorted. “Does successful count when it’s just you, Derek and Cora?”

Peter growled.

“Don’t get all snappy at me,” Stiles sighed. “You know I’m right.”

“Which is why I’ve been trying to restore the family to its glory.”

Stiles laughed, it sounded hollow. “Good luck with that. Derek barely trusts you as it is and Scott won’t be with you, not when he’s dealing with his emerging Alpha status.”

Peter sat forward, staring at Stiles. “Did you trick Scott into being friends with you?”

“You mean did I hypnotize him to be my friend,” Stiles said. “No, but since I’m stuck looking like this, I suggested we had been friends since the third grade. I did a similar thing with John, it's not easy to get the humans to believe a detailed story about being their kid. Takes a lot of time.”

“What about Claudia?” Peter asked, realizing all he had known about Stiles was wrong and had been an elaborate lie. Peter was actually proud.

“She…saw me for what I was,” Stiles sighed. “It wasn’t exactly the dementia that made her say she thought I was going to hurt her. That could have been true if I hadn’t been so attached to her and John.”

“And you’re willing to throw that all way?” Peter asked, back to the topic of the dark Druid and the Alpha pack.

Stiles’ eyes narrowed. “People die all the time, there’s an advantage when you’re supernatural but you still die. Even you’ll die for keeps some time,” he said slowly.

“Scott and your friends have so much to live for!” Peter exclaimed. He didn’t want the Alpha pack to take over, self-preservation was always his priority but he couldn’t do that if Derek and Scott died.

“So did I!” Stiles hissed. “And now I have all the time in the world.”

Peter humphed. “You’re bitter.”

“You get to be bitter after living for a few hundred years and watching the humans change things in the name of progress,” Stiles snorted.

“What was the name of the vampire that turned you?” Peter asked, something sparking in his mind.

“Kathleen,” Stiles answered. “She was Irish, came over in the 1400’s and traveled across the country for solitude and easy prey. I always assumed she had been turned in Ireland.”

“You didn’t get to know her,” Peter stated.

Stiles locked gazed with Peter. “No, she left town after I had adjusted, it wasn’t supposed to be for long. But…hunters found her,” Stiles explained.

“You’re a bitter boy because the person who was teaching you how to get along in this world was taken from you,” Peter hissed, inching closer to Stiles.

“Who are you calling boy?” Stiles laughed. “You’re not even a quarter of my age.”

“And with age is supposed to come wisdom,” Peter told him. “You’ve been brooding in your interconnected series of caves, finding fleeting connections when they come around and letting the rest pass you by.”

Stiles snarled, fangs descending. He moved quickly, shoving Peter back against the divan, the thing protested, there might have been a crack. Stiles eyes bled black as he pinned Peter. “Do you know why I invited you here?” Stiles asked, voice raspy.

“Because you were lonely,” Peter answered. “And because I understand you.”

Stiles leaned towards Peter’s neck. “I was going to offer you my bite,” the vampire muttered. “If I could turn you-“

“You wouldn’t have to watch anyone else die who you actually liked,” Peter interrupted. “You *are* very lonely, you’re aching for companionship. Is that why you haven’t pursued Lydia? You could have had her at any time, but you were content to sit back and watch her from afar. Why not take what you want?”

“Because you got to her first,” Stiles huffed. “And now there won’t be any point, because she’s moved on and-“ Stiles cut himself off, and pulled back, his shift was gone.

“You think she’ll reject you,” Peter said, picking up on the vampires’ train of thought, and faint chemical signals. “That’s adorable.”

Stiles hissed.

“You may be over two hundred years old but you’ve been around teenagers too much,” Peter told him, sitting up. “You’re thinking like them. Think like a supernatural being that’s been around for two hundred years instead. What has your age told you about history?”

“It works in cycles,” Stiles answered. “I *know* that. I watched your family move in to Beacon Hills, watched them build the Hale house, watched Talia mature and take on her Alpha status. And I watched Kate Argent and her cronies burn it all down, because like I already said, you weren’t the first family here. Hunters at the turn of the century found out about the werewolf family that happened to run City Hall at the time, they thought it would protect them if they hid there or were there often enough. They were wrong, the hunters locked them all inside and burned it down. They have a thing for fire it seems.” Stiles leveled an icy gaze at Peter. “I knew what had happened to you in the fire, but I did nothing, want to know why?”

Peter bit back a growl. “Why?” he asked.

“Because I wanted to see how strong you were, to see if you would pull through or succumb to your insanity. I wanted to see how far you would go. Just like why I didn’t stop you from turning Scott. I figured you had a plan for him and…” Stiles shrugged. “There were benefits.”

“You can be malicious,” Peter practically purred. “You drink humans, you have a wealth of knowledge and yet you can’t see how helping Scott would benefit you?”

“Why would you think I would help only to benefit myself?” Stiles asked.

“Takes one to know one sweetheart,” Peter answered with a smirk. “I doubt you want to see Beacon Hills razed to the ground. Helping Scott will keep you protected, because if you don’t help, I’m sure more hunters will come in to help eliminate the threat, hunters that aren’t so lenient like Chris Argent is. You wouldn’t be safe.”

“Are you suggesting I just reveal myself to Scott and the others?” Stiles asked.

“Exclude Scott for a moment,” Peter said. “Do you think the others will push you away? They’ll be happy to have you on their side.” Peter moved, sitting right next to the vampire, he could feel the coldness seeping from Stiles. There was no heartbeat. “At least tell me why despite being a bitter bat, you aligned yourself with someone like Scott. Why be masquerading as a ‘good guy’ in the first place?”

“Because I’m not a heathen,” Stiles spit. “I’m a monster but I have manners.”

Peter smiled. “That’s why Scott has you in his pack.”

Stiles tilted his head, starting at Peter for a moment. “You just gave a grumpy vampire a pep talk.”

“Not the strangest thing I’ve ever done,” Peter told him.

Stiles smirked. “I know. I seem to recall a young man by the name of Chris Argent taking you and another hunter from a bar back to a motel where you spent the night together. You howled.”

Peter tilted his head now. “How long have you been watching me?”

“Most of your life,” Stiles answered. “I thought that was obvious."

"Trying to enact some Twilight fantasies?” Peter asked with a smirk.

Stiles inched closer to Peter. “You know if the humans wanted a realistic story about werewolves and vampires, Edward and Jacob would have gotten together and tore Bella apart.”

Peter hummed, picking up faint arousal from the vampire. “Are you asking to tear someone apart with me?” he asked.

“I could demand it if that suits you,” Stiles answered.

Peter chuckled and leaned closer to Stiles.

The vampire’s fangs descended slowly and he looked ready to bite.

“You know, I might let you give me your bite,” Peter said softly. “But you have to do something for me.”

Stiles sighed and rolled his eyes. “Reveal myself to Scott?” he huffed.

“Yes and-"

“No and, that’s going to be hard enough as it is,” Stiles said, moving into Peter’s lap.

Peter laughed. “I don’t get a say of when you bite me?” he asked.

“Do you want it when you’re older?” Stiles asked, arching an eyebrow. “When you’re not as fast or agile?”

Peter’s eyes flashed. “I get it,” he snapped.

Stiles smiled.

“I take it there’s nothing special to the bite, it just happens,” Peter said.

Stiles nodded. “If I wanted to drink from you, you’d know it,” he said, leaning down to tuck his nose against Peter’s neck, sniffing. “But I don’t like the taste of werewolf blood,” the vampire muttered. “You’re the exception.”

Peter smiled this time. “I’m flattered.”

“That’s my line,” Stiles said before turning his head and biting into Peter’s neck.

Peter cried out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You’re a vampire,” Scott stated.

Stiles sighed. “Yes Scott, that’s the eighth time you’ve said it,” he muttered.

The pack stood in the Preserve, minus Isaac who was working with Chris.

“How did I never…,” Scott started to say.

“I covered my natural scent,” Stiles interrupted, knowing what Scott was going to ask. “Usually only takes some concentration, shampoo and blood.”

“From a person,” Scott said slowly.

“Usually from someone I drink,” Stiles told him. “That way I don’t leave too many bodies.”

Scott took a few steps towards Stiles.

Allison grabbed his arm, to pull him back but he shrugged it off. Scott stared at Stiles. “I don’t believe you. You’re my best friend, you’re not…You faint at the sight of blood Stiles!” Scott proclaimed, trying to make sense of this.

Stiles’ eyes narrowed. “I faint because I’m putting myself out on purpose, so I don’t do something like drink whoever’s bleeding.”

“You fainted when I tried to get my tattoo,” Scott told him.

Stiles shrugged. “I don’t like needles.”

“You have razor sharp teeth,” Lydia said, giving him an odd look.

“Yeah but I haven’t gotten used to needles. I don’t like getting poked when I’m the one that usually pokes people.” Stiles chuckled at his own joke. “Besides back when I was human, the advances of medicine were just starting. Most of it was still 'get this guy drunk and saw off the limb while he’s out' kind of deal.”

“Stop it!” Scott exclaimed.

“Scott!” Allison hissed.

“You’re lying,” Scott snarled. “I don’t know why, but you are. You’re not a vampire Stiles!”

Stiles blinked, eyes turning black and he shoved Scott back, sending him flying and landing on his back on the forest floor beside Allison. Stiles opened his mouth and screeched, fangs out.

The group of teens stared.

Stiles shifted back. “Listen for my heart beat Scott,” he said.

Scott got up slowly, ears picking up on Lydia’s and Allison’s heart beats, but not Stiles’. “You’re not…you don’t,” he tried to say. “You’ve killed people,” he said after a moment.

Stiles huffed. “I’m a creature of the night, kind of don’t have a say in the diet. And I haven’t turned anyone, I don’t have a nest, I’m not a threat.”

“Why not tell us sooner?” Allison asked. “Why pretend to be human for so long?”

Stiles let out a breath. “I’m…lonely. And it was easier to keep up the façade as a human because that meant I got to be around friends more.” Stiles looked from one face to the other. “I’m still me, just not human. And I want to stay in the pack; I want to continue to live here in Beacon Hills.” He took a step forward. “I can help with the Druid.”

“How?” Lydia asked.

“I can drain her,” Stiles replied. “Her magic won’t affect me through her blood. Her power is just as old as mine. It’ll cancel her out.”

“You’ll kill her,” Scott stated.

“What other option do we have when she’s going to kill your mother and John?” Stiles asked.

“You sound like Peter,” Scott hissed.

Stiles humphed. “We do think alike. Not afraid to get our hands dirty. And killing the Druid in this case is justifiable when she’s holding someone we care about,” he said.

Scott glared.

“There’s no saving her,” Stiles told him. “And arguing about it isn’t going to help when she’s out looking for another person to sacrifice.”

“We’ll think of something else,” Scott muttered.

“Better think of it fast,” Allison said in a shaky voice.

They all looked at her.

“Isaac just texted me, my dad’s been taken.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Stiles stood outside the animal clinic with Peter. They had agreed to keep watch while Allison and Scott were under, searching for the Nemeton.

Peter had no need to bother Derek to get his Alpha power, not when he was immortal now.

“How’d you figure that out?” Stiles asked, picking up a thought from Peter about Derek.

“Sadly…got hit by a car coming here,” Peter replied slowly. “A truck ran a red light. Even my wolf reflexes couldn’t have turned the car fast enough in the other direction. I felt the impact, blacked out, and then when I woke up, I just…crawled out of the wreckage. I am going to miss that car though.”

Stiles snorted.

A moment passed.

“Why aren’t you in there with Scott and Allison?” Peter asked.

Stiles arched an eyebrow, glancing at Peter. “Undead,” Stiles answered. “Though I did try. I live with John; I can’t stay in my caves all the time. I’d be out of a place to stay if he died.”

“And you care,” Peter added.

Stiles shrugged. “This town would go downhill without him as sheriff, even if he doesn’t believe me about the whole werewolf thing.”

“Why’d you tell him?” Peter asked.

“Thought it’d help him in his job, and it’d be easier if the law was on our side. And Scott’s a werewolf, one way or another John would have found out about that,” Stiles replied.

“Did you try to tell Deaton you couldn’t do it?” Peter asked, nodding at the animal clinic.

“Actually no,” Stiles answered. “I said I wanted to try, that perhaps my connection was strong enough despite John not being my father. I think it worked a little, but then the spell kicked me out and I was just sitting in a tub of ice water looking like a drowned rat.”

Peter chuckled, imagining the pout that had to have been on Stiles' face.

“I told them I could drain the Druid,” Stiles said, crossing his arms over his chest. “But of course Scott didn’t want that. He said I sounded like you. Oh if only he knew.”

“Are you going to tell them about me?” Peter asked.

“Eventually,” Stiles sighed. “Perhaps once the Druid is dealt with. Maybe that’ll make Scott think twice about keeping me in the pack as if he wasn’t already considering it already.”

A siren sounded somewhere, a gust of wind kicked up.

“You could make a nest,” Peter said softly. “Turn Lydia and I’ll be around still.”

Stiles hummed, thinking. “She was immune to your bite, and being a banshee I get the feeling I wouldn’t be able to turn her. I’ll just have to wait for her to have kids or something.”

“Or we could work something out,” Peter offered.

Stiles laughed and turned to Peter. “Feeling indebted to me?”

Peter shook his head. “Being immortal together, we’re on friendly terms already. Why not just be friends with benefits?”

Stiles smirked, he knew Peter already wanted to get in his pants, so this was just him finally acting on it. “I’m robbing the cradle,” he muttered, but nodded. “I’ll come find you when passion strikes.”

"Deal,” Peter said. “And I’ll come find you on full moons.”

Stiles hummed. “You could always chase me through the Preserve; get some of that animal instinct out.”

“I don’t need to chase you darling,” Peter whispered. “I can be as rough as I want.” Peter’s eyes glowed blue and Stiles responded with his own black.

“Sounds perfect.”

They turned back to the clinic, watching the sun rise.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on tumblr, come find me, I'm shipperfiendobssesser


End file.
